


So could I ride you? I mean get a ride?

by emilycarneRT



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter, First Meetings, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilycarneRT/pseuds/emilycarneRT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Hey, so you're the owner of the bike outside right? Well, I told my friend I wasn't afraid of anything, and they dared me to ask you for a ride and he bet me a week's worth of pie from the place down the street. So could I ride you? I mean get a ride?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	So could I ride you? I mean get a ride?

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd work, because I enjoy prompts!

"I am not afraid of anything," Gavin said, laughing. Ray raised his eyebrows in question.

 

"Really? If that's true, you'll be fine asking Mr. Dreamy over there for a ride on his motorcycle," Ray said, sarcastically while he pointed lazily towards a brunette wearing a leather jacket. He only half expected Gavin to actually take him up on the dare.

 

The man he pointed to stood with his back to them, but he held a helmet under his arm. That was really the only indication of being of motorcyclist that both Ray and Gavin could note. His hair was almost red in nature — a russet brown — and curled every which way. The man had gloves tucked carelessly in his back pocket with a backpack slung over his shoulder in much the same fashion as he chatted up the check-out waitress.

  
"What do I get out of it?," Gavin questioned — squinting his eyes in Ray's direction. What was the point in doing it, if not for a reward?

  
"Week of pie from Ramsey's Diner down the street," Ray said quickly — a small smirk playing at his lips.

  
Now Gavin didn't have much of a sweet tooth, but, on the rare occasions he was homesick, he'd hit up the international food aisle or The Ramsey's Diner. The chef, Geoff, made these pies to die for, and his wife, Griffon, acted as the wait staff. She was so warm and comforting, it made him feel at home. Then, with Millie — the Ramsey's daughter — snuggled up to his side as he made dick jokes over his favorite pie, well…

  
"I... I guess I can," Gavin said — fully regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He wasn't going to be a bloody pussy though. Ray laughed in surprise.

  
"You fucking said it. Now, go," Ray said, standing from the booth. Gavin shifted in his seat — thinking of ways to escape when Ray yanked him up. Gavin cursed under his breath as Ray shoved him towards the man. Ray knew him too well.

* * *

  
Slowly, Gavin trudged towards the biker — a frown seemingly painted on his face. Reaching out, Gavin tapped the man on his shoulder. The man turned around, and Gavin was screwed.

  
"Hey, so you're the owner of the bike outside right? Well, I told my friend I wasn't afraid of anything, and they dared me to ask you for a ride and he bet me a week's worth of pie from the place down the street. So could I ride you? I mean get a ride?" Gavin sputtered out — blushing hard at his mistake. To his surprise, and embarrassment, the totally hot stranger laughed.

  
"Sure, man. I'll make it worth your while," the stranger said — grinning. Gavin didn't know what to expect, but the rich, gruff voice that splashed him with warmth was definitely not it. If possible Gavin’s blush deepened, and he could hear Ray’s laughter in the back of his mind.

“Hey, just let me pay my shit, and I’ll give you a ride,”the stranger said, winking and turning around. “The name’s Michael, by the way,” the stra — Michael said, his back still turned to Gavin.

“Gavin,” he mumbled out — shuffling his feet awkwardly.

While Michael made small talk and paid for his meal, Gavin looked around helplessly and quickly caught sight of Ray laughing in their booth. However, when their waiter approached the table, Ray quickly noticed the flaw in his bet and stopped laughing. Gavin tried to hide his smile but couldn't muffle his chuckle, and Ray whipped himself around to glare in his direction.

‘ _You fucking asshole_ ’ Ray mouthed. Gavin barely made it out but laughed once he put the pieces together. Ray had left himself in prime position for the check to come and fuck him in the ass. I mean, Ray worked at a local GameStop, and the wages weren't great, so…

“Fuck,” Ray muttered looking at the total and staring longingly at Gavin who stood smug at the check-out. That was until Michael tapped on his shoulder.

Gavin jumped and left out a squawk that Michael(and Ray) found utterly amusing — much to Gavin’s dismay. Through laughs, Michael managed to jerk his thumb in a _let’s go_ motion, and Gavin shook his head in understanding.

Michael smiled — his dimple making Gavin’s knees a little weak — and lead them to the most beautiful bike Gavin had ever seen. All the while, Michael’s helmet dangled precariously on his fingertips as he swung his arms lazily.

“Wow,” Gavin breathed out — amazed.

“She’s a fucking beaut, isn’t she?,” Michael said — seemingly pleased with Gavin’s reaction. Gavin nodded while slowly circling the motorcycle. There was minimal detail work giving the bike a sleek look, and the black paint shimmered in the light.

Michael smiled in Gavin’s direction before pulling his helmet on and pulling up the visor. He swiftly swung his backpack around and set it on the bike’s seat. The action caused Gavin to look up and watch with a rapt gaze as Michael unzipped said bag and pulled out a spare helmet. Wasting no time, Michael handed Gavin the object and zipped up the largest pocket again.

Gavin laughed at the irony of his helmet — the Union Jack design staring him down with the bold colors of his country. Ignoring his hair, Gavin pulled on his helmet just in time to see Michael lifting the motorcycle’s seat and placing the practically empty bag in the cubby. Gavin watched, only slightly nervous, as Michael pulled on his leather gloves and flexed his hands to the right fit.

Gavin blushed as Michael hiked his leg up and slung it seamlessly over the bike. Once on the vehicle Michael offered his arm to the British boy, and Gavin accepted it gratefully. Michael quickly made use of his grip and yanked Gavin up on the bike.

Gavin could only blink stupidly at the act of strength and his new position. Michael laughed — pushing down Gavin’s helmet visor and turning around.

Gavin cursed quietly and wrapped his arms around Michael's middle — blushing. Michael smiled and pushed down his own visor before revving his engine to life and hitting the kickstand up with his leg.

“You got anywhere in particular you wanna go?,” Michael asked. Gavin cocked his head at the question. Well, if he was asking…

“You familiar with the record shop down the street? Pattillo’s?,” Gavin questioned back. Michael nodded and revved the engine again.

“There, then. I know the owner, a bloody prick,” Gavin explained. Michael huffed a laugh — pulling out of the parking lot. The sudden jerk sent Gavin crashing into Michael's back, and he tightly clutched the leather of Michael’s jacket for security.

 

* * *

 

Michael hummed — trying to ease Gavin’s worries — as they waited to turn at the light. Gavin noticed the small gesture and smiled, but only slightly loosened his hold on Michael.

 **  
** Together, they rode off into Austin's building traffic — the wind whipping around them and smiles stupidly plastered on their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any criticisms or concerns below. Thank you!


End file.
